French Lessons for Suze
by scumisyum
Summary: JS New better version and well, why tell you the story. Just know that it's not 'hot'n'heavy' lol but it's good. well, at least, i think so. Might be delusional, beware. Disclaimer: Mine or Not Mine, why bother asking?
1. Chapter 1

**French Lessons for Suze **

**Revised version**

A/N hey people! Yeah, decided to continue the story but it's different formula, you know? Right… you don't. But well, a new opportunity to. Argh, I'll just shut up now. R&R or… muhaha!

Chapter One: Hmm… tutorage… interesting?

SPOV

Have you ever felt like the cutest guy in the world was at touching distance but oh-so far away? Yeah, bet you did. Well, it's a sad day when Suze Simon has to admit the same but well, this is it.

Yeah, I'm Susannah Simon, Suze and not Susie if you want to keep all your teeth and if male genitals.

I know I'm so sweet and sociable, who would want to miss the opportunity to meet me? Ha, if you say no-one you haven't met most of the population of Carmel high.

Right, I guess I should tell you the basics of my life.

I'm an ordinary sixteen going on seventeen girl, brown hair, green-eyed rather anti-social one really… oh, forgot to mention this: I can see ghosts.

Let me guess, you're calling the asylum, they lost a member to the club, straight jacket people! See, that's the reason I don't tell people about my special 'talent' or as I put it freaking curse.

Yeah, you're not people. Nah, just messing with you… you're… uh… right. Next subject.

You see I am what the clueless call Mediator and what the compulsive obsessive pathological liars call shifters. I am a person who is assigned the task of making the dead past to the realm of the dead and not say and cry their poor eyes out or kill innocent or not so innocent passer-bys.

If you're wondering who the clueless are well, it's those who believe that this whole thing is a gift, god's offering to us to give us the chance to help our fellow annoying-bastards. That would be Father Dom, but he's a nice guy, just clueless you know? But then he is a priest, he's been protected from the not so understanding side of the world I was brought up in, yeah; you got it in one, Brooklyn.

(A/N don't know anything about Brooklyn, if anyone wants to complain about anything said in the fics I write, complain; go on, I don't mean anything I say in these stories!)

As for the compulsive obsessive and pathological liars they happen to be one person whom I am starting to believe has a variety of personalities, some that I have yet to meet. He –yes he is a he- would be known to people as Paul Michael Slater or to me as Spawn of Satan, bastard, arsehole, shmuck and psychologically disturbed freak. Not so kind, I know, but he deserves all those names. Except maybe for bastard, I think his parents were married when he was sadly brought to earth… what a sad, tragic day, the 20th of July, to be mourned!

Right, might have to focus now… so, yeah, I see ghosts, no I'm no bullshitting, yes I swear a lot and if you're thinking 'When does she have the time to tell us all this, I always have class' well here's the answer.

I'm in the principal's office.

And the principal and I are real chummy.

Ugh, not that kind of chummy, god, sick and perverted you are! No, see he's father Dom, another mediator, well, I haven't found myself a name yet and I'd rather die than go around parading that I'm a 'shifter', Paul corrupts everything he touches, says and so on you know?

So yeah, this is one of our customary meetings. I bore myself to death and nod every time he says something he considers wise and worthy of memorization when truthfully I'm just thinking and well, that's when you appear and uh, read my thoughts?

Right, skip the boring stuff…

I'm in his office because of ghost business. You know, like, 'Oh Susannah, (yeah, he can't call me Suze, feels guilty or something…) has anything out of the ordinary happened?' then I just look at him and wonder how he knows about my non-existing love-life and after babbling I realize that's not what he meant… yeah, I'm a genius all right!

Anyways, the conversation started like that, I told him nothing paranormal happened when in fact this weird crazy woman came up and started yelling her startlingly wide mouth about me being a lazy ass and going to apologize for her to some random guy that she left behind… charming. But yeah, anyways, I lie, he nods thoughtfully and distrusting –see Father Dom knows me well enough to know I'm a totally stubborn klutz…- and then he starts going on about my schoolwork.

Now you should pay attention, because this day was different from usual, see, Father Dom says I suck in French and this is nothing new to me so I just say sorry and let him go on but then… ah, something happened, Father Dom assigned me a TUTOR!

How do you tell a priest and principal of your school 'thanks but no thanks'?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: How to put it… no? WAIT, YES!

SPOV

He's a sweet old man isn't he? Maybe too old, who knows? I think that maybe some hinges are lose or something because when did he hear or even expect me to say yes to the outrageous proposition of having a tutor?

Never, that's when.

"Susannah, you should not be so irresponsible. This is important for your future and the path your life should take…"

WHAT, FRENCH? Uh, why? I'm staying on American soil people!

"Please, Susannah, for me and your mother and yourself," I hate when he plays the pity card, "Your grades are outstandingly low in that class, Susannah…" Oh, yeah, that's going to spur me on! Suze your grades are worth shit… oh right, yup sorry, will work hard from now on… NOT!

"Uh, Father Dom? Yeah, not going to happen. Do you know how hard it is for me to listen to someone and especially someone MY age? Right, plus I don't understand French. I wasn't made for the language, my lips weren't created to form the words… plus it'll never serve me a purpose. Anyways, who is even good at it?"

Let me guess, the ego-monster (Paul) and well, that's it. Unless you count the older years and like they'll take to teaching a 'kid' the lingo. And I think I made it pretty clear that I'd never, NEVER, accept lessons from You-Know-Who. And no, that was not a reference to Harry Potter.

"There are many good students or should I say BETTER students in French Susannah. For example Paul Slater whom I know you are acquainted…"

"NO WAY! Never… do you know how hard it is to cope with his existence? If I have to see him then it'll only be worse!" I know, not polite to cut in but I had a feeling he might say something absolutely horrifying… never know!

"Fine, Susannah, not Mr. Slater then though he seems to be a brilliant student… There are older students such as Miss. D'Oncieu, Mr. Molle, Miss. Clavel, Mr. Du Colombier or Mr. De Silva…"

D'Oncieu: don't know, Mr. Molle : weird name, nope, Miss. Clavel: sounds like a guy…, Mr. Du Colombier: nope… Mr. De Silva: whate- WAIT A SECOND!

(A/N no offense to the people with said names except for Niff and well, he will never know that I brought him up though… LOL, Miss! Sorry, you people wouldn't get it… private joke with a certain annoying reader.)

DE SILVA! HA, victory dance! Oh, yeah, wohoo!

I'm not crazy… I promise.

It's just… remember my 'morose' thoughts about a certain someone close but too far. Well, De Silva would be him. Jesse. Hottest guy ever, latino supreme, good looks, good brain, good teeth, good voice, great body… ah, melting on the spot.

So sweet and kind-hearted and… bloody desirable!

Maybe having a tutor wouldn't be soooo bad?

Who am I kidding, it'd be marvelous, splendid, fab-tanstic, great, awesome, damn fine (and yes, he is FINE!) uh, sorry… got carried away!

"Uh, Father D? Yeah, last one sounds good…"

I know, lame but did I really see a twinkle in the old man's eyes or am I completely delusional?

Delusional? You think so? Hmm… guess I forgot to take my medication. JOKE, joke people!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Who's hot, HE'S HOT! But Hotly Taken.

SPOV

Oh yeah, who gets to go up to great hottie and bat her eye-lashes and say: YOU, YES YOU, ARE MY TUTOR IN FRENCH, THE LANGUAGE OF ROMANCE? Me, myself and I only.

Too bad he has a girl-friend.

Ah yes, who would've thought that such an incredible piece of hotness would be taken. Well, everyone but… ugh, she's pretty, bitchy, intelligent, rich and sadly charming whenever around Prince Charming.

Her name?

Three guesses.

Carolyn Rosberg.

Queen of sarcasm, snobbery and deluding kindness.

I know, you're wondering, how did someone like him get hooked up with a monster like her! But then the same question is asked by everyone and the answer is as comprehensible as why Paul Slater was granted everything in life and yet is a the lowest form of life. Unbelievable but true… mental sigh. I wish that some of the good things would happen to ME! Yeah, you listening up there?

Oh, wait, answering machine.

Right, sorry, my wit seems to be wasted here. Will move on.

So, he's taken. Gone, disappeared, even more out of reach than before and well, I'm sighing my head off while looking at him from far-off. Far away enough for incredible bitch not to rip my head off.

There she is, latched with super-glue on his arm and trying to incapacitate him from every humanly possible action.

He's infront of his locker and looks SO good, the shirt looks good, the shoes looks good, the hair looks good, the jeans are GREAT and well, I've got to get past Miss. Evil-eye to announce him the happy news: you're my tutor!

And then I'm guessing he'll be like, oh great, and she'll look at me like I'm fungus, which I am NOT, ask Paul.

Wait, don't. He might jump on you when your back is turned. Slimy sly bastard. Uh, yeah, back to reality.

I've got to get passed the blody lioness and get to the gorgeous, uh… lion?

Nah. Must think up a suitable animal for his oh-so-gorgeousness!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Could she have a worse breath?

SPOV

Yes, I know. I'm brave. Most girls would give up on the tutorage and just grab Paul, say he compensates for his psycho mentality with his looks and then be satisfied with him teaching them the one phrase: Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? (traduction: Will you sleep with me?)

But no. I have principal and I'm in lust so I'm going after Mr. Hot-stuff and damn if I get my head bitten off by Bitch-o!

Right, I don't want my head bitten off but I doubt she'd try with all the hair product I have on to keep in from looking like a jungle, aka, Monica in FRIENDS when they go to Barbados.

So I approached him and well, all went according to assumptions. Lady Hell started uncoiling herself from his pretty good looking biceps and looking at me like I was the worst vermin she'd ever seen. I can guess that she's never looked in a mirror. Though who knows, maybe she's a vampire and cannot see her own reflection.

And that's when it happened. She opened her mouth and WOW, I almost died and stranded in hell with Paul stripping in front of me. Yeesh.

Her breath? Yeah… never expected something to smell like cadaver breath to come in near proximity with me but that… THAT, yuck!

Shivers up my spine and not the good time… definitely!

"What do you want?" Right, she made a sentence. Must reply. Must not let eyes water from stink. How does this guy do it?

"Uh, I have to talk to him."

"Well, say it then and then you can get lost!" Oh, CHARMING!

"Carolina, you should not be so harsh, let her speak…" And dreamy… so good-looking that I almost forget to answer BUT, I HAVE A BRAIN!  
"Oh, um, thanks," I glare at bitch-o for good measure, "I was told that you were my new tutor for French. I'm failing so… there. Thought I'd warn you in advance." Hmm, not TOO tacky but then definitely not smart. Or genius? Ah, a question to figure the answer to out soon.

"Right, thanks. Do you know when we start and where?"

Huh, never thought of that.

"Nope." And then cadaver-breath snorted. God, how 'unbecoming!'

"Right, I guess I'll ask Father Dominic."

Aw, he's sweet he doesn't even call him Father D or Dom… sweety pie!

"Right, you can shove off now!" Looks who's back at the charge. Full of herself and bad breath isn't she?

"Yeah, I have to get away from your bad-breath." And then I was gone, like royalty, my nose in the air and a smirk on my face that I'm sad to say ressembled that of psycho-king. You know, Paul?

Yeah, Paul whom I bumped into by unfortunate destiny.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: You Shiver Me Timbers… nope.

SPOV

What is it with Paul? He doesn't seem to grasp the meaning of the word rejection and is swimming in denial. Uh, yeah, sorry. What I mean is 'WHY IS HE ALWAYS HITTING ON ME?' I'd understand if I had been giving him the come on or batted my eye-lashes it at him but all I've been doing for the past months was tell him he was a psychologically disturbed annoying bastard. Can I make my un-interest any clearer?

(A/N I don't think un-interest is that much of a word but it fits in the context.)

But no, here he is, leering at me in what would make a girl-blush if she didn't find him utterly repulsive which sadly there are not many… aka only me. Yeah, he's good looking, he kisses well not that I would really know, and he looks like he came out of a Calvin Klein underwear advertisement. Still it's the inside that counts and Paul is not exactly glorious in there.  
Anyways, here he is, telling me that my shoes are flicking and SURE my pulse is beating a bit faster but that's just fear and not, IN NO WAY, is it attraction. Because even if Paul looks ravishingly hot, Jesse is the best looking thing on earth, plus he has a heart and a good soul. So, yeah, blabbering here, but Jesse is sexy whereas Paul, well, he ONLY has sexiness. Get it?

I definitely should never become a teacher. Not that I'd want to. I mean, dealing with students as a teenager is already a shit load so making them listen to you and all… NO THANKS!

Right, going off topic.

So yeah, I'm trying to get out of Mister. Not-so-sex bomb's clutches and get to wherever is far, far away from him. But sadly he's not exactly complying with my master-mind plan.

"Suze, you wouldn't be leaving me all alone to fend for myself in these treacherous corridors?" Pfff… calling in the pity act. SOO used to it now.

"Paul you're not exactly new anymore, I think you got the hang of survival." Thank you, Thank you, your applauds are so gratifying!

"Maybe but it'd still be nice to be in your company." Huh, and girls fall for that?

"Well I'm sure if you pay Kelly the right price she'll be happy to do the same and even more, see ya!" And with that I was gone, once again, mingling with the crowd and almost bumping into an eighth grader but missing him by an inch.

I'm good!

Don't worry, I'm joking, I'm not as self-absorbed as Paul is. Thank God.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Meet the Family

A/N I know it's been ages since I last updated, especially this story so I'd like to apologize to you guys and thanks for the good reviews. Anyways, will try making this chapter longer… tootles! Lol

SPOV

Back home after the terrifyingly long day. It seemed that everywhere I looked I saw blondy-bitch Caroline (aka, the latino sex bomb's girlfriend or as I like to call her: big mistake) and her nasty glares that seemed to radiate her bad breath as well.

You haven't heard about my family, right? So, I'm going to try and break this to you really easily: I've got three step-brothers. And maybe you're squealing right now and wondering if they're half as good lookin' as me, but well, personally, I don't like thinking of them as guys, more like the people who live in my house. Except for Doc.

Okay, I know you're wondering who Doc is and no, he's not a rabbit who got an insanely bad name. He's my step-bro. And before you think that Doc is his real name, I'll help you out and say that it's in fact David. And well, the other two housemates are Jake, alias Sleepy (he doesn't take drugs people –though I've asked- he's just tired because of his pizza delivery job) and finally and least of all, Brad commonly referred to as Dopey.

The eldest of this great trio is Sleepy, he's what my friend Gina who's back in NY would refer to as a sexy blond with a nice butt. But then I sometimes look at the guys that Gina goes for and wonder what she's thinking… but on with the 'family'.

Next step-brother is the one that I despise the most. His name: Brad. Nickname: Dopey, though I sincerely believe that the order should be reversed. Dopey is what you would call a dumb jock; he's in the wrestling club and let me tell you, it's ever so unflattering to see his head turn all read and his neck muscles bulging. UGH! But I always remember fondly the times where his head gets squashed in between the bulky biceps of the opposing school's playa.

I know, what kind of step-sister am I? Well, when it comes to Dopey I think I do a good job when I don't shudder every time he walks into a room. I mean, SERIOUSLY, the boy salivates whenever Kelly Prescott and her posse (including Debbie Mancuso sometime fling) and his friends consist of one Paul Slater. Though I've got to hand it to Paul, he doesn't like Brad.

Anyways, enough talk about the unmentionable and on to Doc, my favorite of the lot. He's the only one who's younger than me (Sleepy's eighteen ladies, and well Brad, he's in my year WOOHOO! …. Not).

David is a cute little redhead which makes him stick out from his blondie brothers. He's got sticky-outy ears and these huge glasses… okay, he's a dork. But he's such a CUTE dork! Anyways, I've got hope for Doc to become a great lad someday, unlike someone else I don't think I have to name.

Now that I've finished my scintillating description of the boys in my household, I move on to the reason why they are step- brothers: their father, Andy Ackerman, great man but not my father, who happens to be dead if you care.

My mum, after my father passed away, met this carpenter/wannabe comedian and they fell in love and got hitched. He lived in North of Cali, Carmel. And I was living comfortably in NY City when I had to change my environment for pastel color friendly Carmel. But don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against Andy. He's a great guy, he can cook (which is great since I used to live on cereals back in the day) and when he's not trying to crack the worst jokes he's pretty loveable.

Not that you'll ever find me calling him 'daddy'.

And last but not least my mum. She's cool people, I mean, seriously, do you know many people who would still love their kid after the cops had brought her back fifteen times...? Huh… yeah, didn't think so.

Mum's a journalist so she can guilt you into many things with her whole I-feel-so-sad expressions. She'd have been a great actress.

Anyway, that's the people in my family. Apart from them there's the dog Max whom I like to think of as my partner in crime when Andy uses too much cheese in his meals. Yeah, I can't remember ever having a meal at home without Max's head spread out on my knee and his mouth opening up to catch all the scraps I pass to him. Dogs and their loyalty… sigh.

Well, I live 99 Pine Street wherever that is exactly, I couldn't really tell you. All I know is someone drives me there and back to school and that's the one road I can really recognize. Though I also know the way to the beach and the Point not that I use the last one. Though I wouldn't mind being in the arms of a certain Jesse De Silva there, if you get my drift. (Wink)

Sadly, that won't be the case unless he suddenly realizes that his girlfriend is a whore and I am a dazzling, independent woman who just so happens to see ghosts… right. That's likely to happen!

So, back to the present… hehe, ever seen the movie with Michael Fox "Back to the Futur"? Oh, yeah, sorry, totally off topic there.

I'm going up the stairs (because my room so happens to be upstairs) and after much exertion, finally happen upon my humble door. Okay, stop the bashing, I'll talk like a normal person!

Now prepare yourself for something… unexpected. My room is pink. And I don't mean the whole mix of black and pink to get the whole retro/punk look. No, I mean the whole look-at-me-I'm-a-princess pink. But I gave the room a new vibe… I've got a reputation to uphold. So it's now a pink with scarves hanging at random places, pictures of my friends (the few, few I have) and very hot models –uh, men if you're wondering- hanging here and there. I like to call it Mi Casa.

Sometimes I wonder why I didn't take Spanish as optional instead of goddamn French. And then I realize if I hadn't I wouldn't be able to call Jesse de Silva my own private tutor.

Aah… life is semi-good. Now all I need is for God to wake up and decide that there are too many people called Paul Slater on this earth and the one attending Carmel High should be pulverized… muhaha!

A/N leave reviews…

What's the magic world?

NOW!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Why should I care?

Disclaimer: As if you don't already know what I'm going to say!

SPOV

Dear reader or should I say me, myself and I because technically I'm not really hot with the idea of someone reading this. Back to school once again where life has turned into sunshine and flowers because JESSE DE SILVA IS MY FRENCH TUTOR! It would seem that things have been going great and that I shall finally get to have a lesson with latino-hottie today! Sure, it'll be in the library but I'm not picky. It doesn't matter where we are as long as I can ogle him.

I know, I lead a sad and pathetic life. Go ahead and say it.

Anyways, was walking towards my locker which sadly is pretty decrepit and saw a vaguely masculine hot-body form. Of course, a natural reaction from a girl to a hot bod is to primp but I wasn't going to. God knows Paul has tricked me into waving my hair around like some hair shampoo add girl and I wasn't going to fall for some attractive manly, virile and ultimately saliva worthy body.

Nope, not me.

And for once it happened to be someone other than Paul, a ghost or that stupid friend of Brad's who doesn't appear to master English grammar. He is American… sad, huh?

God, I've got to stop going around talking about nonsequential things and talk like a normal human being. Fact is, the nice body belonged to the nice latino who in this instance was Jesse de Silva.

Naturally my shock cause gravity to screw up and I landed flat on my face, right at his shoes. Nice, right? Got up, looked around me and then cringed when I realized he MUST have seen the whole thing. But he was so sweet about it, just asked me if I wasn't feeling alright and then he was all, "Susannah, are you quite alright?" and he offered to bring me to the nurse but there was no way in HELL that I was going to miss his tutoring class. A million dollars wouldn't be enough!

Well, actually… NO! I must be strong and my lust cannot be corrupted by money. Though god knows how many Jimmy Choos I could buy with a million bucks… yikes!

So, there I was all embarrassed and lustful, checking out my latin-prince charming when Father Dominic comes up. I bet he was checking to see that I did go to my lesson.

Did he honestly think I would miss a lesson with Jesse de Silva? Yeah… right!

Anyways, there was good old Father Dom with his twinkly blue eyes and looking all Dumbledory like just like in Harry Potter –you know that kid with the stick who goes around saying latin stuff: that guy!

So, there was Father Dom and he was about to start talking when god knows why, and I mean WHY, Jesse's bitch of a girlfriend come a-running and demands that I unhand her man. Okay, fine that wasn't her exact wording but I'm afraid that Father Dom might find this and fall on this page and have to go through all that ordeal again. All I can say is: DAMN BUT THAT GIRL KNOWS HOW TO CUSS!

Well, then I was all "Uh…sure psycho lady" and talking about psycho guess who walks up in time to see Father Dominic collapse in a dead feint (yeah, poor guy, I guess all that holiness can't stand to be near such vulgarity or whatever). So, anyways, there comes Paul the dude who can't take a hint and of course Jesse's gentleman enough to catch Father D before he breaks his skull or whatever and Paul… well, Paul just proved what an ass he is. Instead of being concerned he starts chatting up the blondy girl.

Can you believe? Yeah… I guess it is plausible when you think about it…

There, that's my day then. I never really got my lesson because the Carolyn bitch just looked at Paul like he was toxic waste which I'm not sure he's used to unless said girl is me and she said something along the lines of "Girls with asses like mine don't talk to guys with faces like yours". Then Miss. Prissy demanded her boyfriend to drop "the old guy" and take care of her.

The only good thing about all this is that Jesse was pissed with "Carolina" and stormed off while carrying the dead weight of Father D (you've got to admire the muscle that takes!) leaving blondy girl to run off in a fit and Paul dumbstruck.

And there I was, standing in the middle of this, feeling kind of ignored, hurt, astounded and yet, so amused. I decided I better not be there when Paul need to get laid to help his ego, god knows what that guy would do in desperation! And so I left, taking my stuff with me and planning on telling my mum that I fell (which I did) and was in too much pain to think. Hell, thinking IS painful.

So now there's nothing to do but wait and see what fate has in store for the next day. Hopefully it will be the break up of beauty and the beast and Paul's transfer to a psych ward as well as Father D's recovery and perhaps Jesse might fall in love with me and we'll get married and have a honeymoon in Hawai. Why should I worry, things are going great for me!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Nombre de Dios!

Disclaimer: Same old, same old…

So, the tutor gig didn't happen, Paul got dissed by hyper-bitch and good old Father D was swept off his feet by the ever so gorgeous Jesse de Silva. Scratch the last part cause it sounds ever so slightly scary.

I woke up to find that my knee is bruised. It seems that being victim to falling due to sight of incredibly buff bodies is hazardous to one's health. I should sue the school but I doubt that would work. I guess I'll have to deal with not wearing a skirt for a while though technically knee length IS the only length allowed in our up-tight Christian school. Never mind that I'm an atheist with a Jewish background… sigh.

So here comes another day of school, aka supposed education. I'm probably going to have to deal with Paul popping out of nowhere, a crazy excitable girl-friend (not mine, in case you are confused there) and, knowing my luck, I probably won't even be able to see the lusty form of el hottie; Jesse.

Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. Such a nice name for such a nice guy with such a nice body…

I know, I know; you must stop thinking of him constantly, get yourself a life and get over it (song by the Eagles which RULES!). But well, not as easy as it sounds. That is, if you think it sounds easy. Though technically there is no you because you are a piece of paper from a half-used notebook that has doodles involving Justin Timberlake… wow, but that is lame.

So, story of my life: nothing. Which I guess is getting clearer every time I update. Maybe if I cease this whole updating mess I won't appear to be a social retard with no life and then everything will feel good again.

Or maybe not.

Anyways, enough of the stupidity and the scheming to gain myself what one might call a life… is life an acronym for something? Like L for loving, I for intelligent, F for frog and E for evolution? And now that I'm thinking about it, this actually sounds pretty stupid and makes no sense so I guess I should go drown myself in a lake now; that is if I can find one.

Are there any lakes near Carmel? Beaches, hell yeah, but lakes?

Wait a second, people; I think I've hit on the reason why people never get amazing ideas in the morning. Because mornings are early and earlyno intelligent thought.

So, school, school, school… What to wear? What to say? How to ambush the latino-spaniard in the corridor so as to have my way with him? All of these questions must be answered and quickly and not in that order.

"Suze, get your ass in gear, we've got to get going!" The bleary call I just recorded in what I might call my diary just came from my step-brother, Sleepy. Aptly named for his ability to sound tired and look half-dead (in what is apparently a "oh, my god so hot' way. That was Kelly Prescott if you're wondering). So, getting my ass in gear starting from now; well, once I find what outfit to wear. Who knows, maybe my tutor will be able to put me in his schedule and I shall have the time of my life preening at him in a very elegant and appealing manner.

Basically, find something nice to wear and hope my make-up won't smudge during the day.

So, finally got an outfit which consists of black slacks which are quite refined and not nearly as haughty as they sound, and a green Benetton jumper I bought last week. I'm thinking avoiding the colors that 'Carolina' wears such as pink can only be considered as bonus points. Boy was that hunk of hotness pissed at her for loosing that swear fest!

Back to the life of me; I'm in the car, sitting in the front cause I glared Brad down for the seat and life seems good. That is until the car starts slanting dangerously fast down hill and it feels like remake of that time where that kid Michael was on a killing spree, cause there we were heading dangerously fast down the road. And I swear I'm going to have to convert to Christianity if this continues to happen. Though, technically, I have seen the living well ghostly proof that the whole going straight to heaven of hell deal doesn't QUITE exist but I'm guessing right now is not the time to get picky because I feel like I'm facing my imminent ending and being a ghost is not favorable; who knows what kind of stuff Paul might bind me to do… I just know he's into bondage, freaky little pervert.

And still facing imminent death!

That is until now, because we just slammed into a tree and wow, I felt that way down to my toes! But hey, better than bleeding internally or getting slammed into by a truck, right? And you won't BELIEVE who is getting out of their car and running towards the wreck that I believe we (as in me and the steps) look like. Jesse de Silva.

Sometimes, I think, being an atheist is just as rewarding as having some kind of faith. Cause there he is, looking at me in shock and opening the front door, helping me out of the car.

I'm kind of shaky which is pretty understandable considering the circumstances, but the guy is so sweet, he's helping me down to the ground and going towards the car to help the steps out. I hope Doc is okay, the little dude is my favorite and I'm scared he might bruise easier than us older types.

But the little redhead midget is alright and he's heading towards me and hugging me like I'm his anchor or something, which is sweet and I'm almost getting teary eyed but I'm kind of butch in the way that crying… makes me a wuss. So I just hug him and say thanks to Jesse.

Jesse who seems to be in as much shock as us and keeps muttering to himself "Nombre de Dios!" which I believe means in the name of God. Well, I guess there's one reason for why he goes to Carmel High.


End file.
